Most days, I am perfectly content with my life and happy with how it turned out and what I do. And on some days, I am feeling lonely as fuck.

It happens generally after a period of intense activity and hardly any down time. So suddenly, when I happen to have two days in a row of Nothing Planned, and fatigue is here, I crash.

I see everything through the lens of “I am 42, single, my family is far away, my friends are far away or not available, the only breathing beings around me are 5 cats, what a sad and miserable life, I must be so uninteresting that people don’t want to spend time or be in a relationship with me.” Yes, this is where my thoughts are going.
Fortunately, I have done enough Work and learned enough yoga that I know it’s bullshit. But STILL. Deep in the trenches.

And being the Capricorn I am, I don’t reach out to people. No, I’d rather spend time on social media, waiting for someone to figure out what’s happening and willing to catch me there (which makes things worse, of course) (don’t be the Capricorn here).

Yesterday I was there. In the trenches. Trying to snap out of it. Realizing there was no other way than to sit with it. I came across this quote by Douglas Coupland while mindless browsing the internetz (as you do):

“Remember, the time you feel lonely is the time you most need to be by yourself. Life’s cruelest irony.”

First reaction: “what the FUCK are you talking about?”
Reaction today: “I… think he has a point, dammit”

Because this is it. This is where the yoga makes sense, deep in the trenches. This is where you can really understand that all movement leads to stillness. And stillness is a bitch –  if you resist it.

Last weekend, I spent the weekend with Ido Portal (no, not like THAT), and while he is all about movement, he also insists that one needs to have a stillness practice, because they are two sides of the same coin really. You can’t comprehend movement on its own, unless you can compare to something else, and that something else is stillness.

And I get it now: it’s about meditation, yes, but also in life’s cycles. Down time. Pause. Reflection. No group experience to share, no work to do, just me myself and I. And it is hard work. First I go to what I feel is lacking, because it’s easier. How about I see what IS here, for a change? How about I stop, for a moment?

Movement is easy, and activity can quickly become an escape – but the hardest work is not necessarily about getting into a handstand, it’s also accepting what is and learning how to pause.